


Tomato Rice

by Yalu



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sick Castiel, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 12:20:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4828928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yalu/pseuds/Yalu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is sick. Dean's good with airplane noises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomato Rice

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://yalumesse.tumblr.com/post/121632661942/copperbadge-akatonbo-officialcadbane) cute story.

  
  


Dean's used to taking care of stubborn, sick little brothers. He's used to the bitching and whining and then the big puppy dog eyes that don't understand why his _big brother_ can't magically make a cold go away. He's used to sullen teenage mood swings and sudden ravings that he's _fine, Dean! You're not MOM!_ followed by kicked tables and slamming doors. And Sam used to get three colds a year.

Next to that, Cas is easy. 

"I don't want it," he sulks, turning his face into the pillow. "It smells awful. And it won't help."

Dean, who's leaning right over the bowl of tomato rice soup, breathes in the steam. "Mmmmmm, this? This is your ticket to health, Cas. Guaranteed to chase away every germ in your body. By smell alone," he adds, deadpan, just to be an ass.

"Health is a state of being without a definable scent," Cas replies, muffled by the blankets. "And that's ridiculous."

Dean rolls his eyes and waits. 

About thirty seconds pass, and Cas sighs. He sits up a little, on his elbows, and glares at the spoonful Dean offers, but he does sniff it again, all blurry eyed and unfocused. "You can't seriously think tha–"

He sputters as the heap of red-soaked rice flies into his mouth and, by the time he's closed his mouth to try blocking it, all he's done is make a seal keeping the soup in as Dean slides the spoon out. 

He could spit it out. For a second, he looks like he's thinking about it, but good manners and probably hunger win out and he chews briefly, then swallows.

Dean knows he's grinning stupidly and scoops up some more. "Better yet?"

Groaning, because no, if he has what Dean had last week then he absolutely feels like shit, Cas flops back into his bed and mutters, "I should have thrown you back into Hell."

Something pangs in Dean's gut but he stomps it out and shrugs. "Yeah, you probably should've. You want to try?"

"I'm an angel, Dean," he mutters miserably under his breath, drawing the blankets up to his ears and squeezing his eyes shut. "You can't win against me."

"I'm sure you're right," Dean agrees mildly, and he lets that sink in a second until Cas peers out from his cocoon, rightfully suspicious.

"Wha–"

_Aaaaaaaand score two for Winchester!_ he thinks as he stuffs in another mouthful of rice, complete with an airplane noise because that glare he's getting? Is priceless. A few bits of rice hit the blanket, but who cares? Cas is looking murderous over his Buzz Lightyear PJs and it's the funniest thing Dean's ever seen.

Cas swallows and keeps his teeth gritted as he says, "Was that necessary?"

"You're gonna get better, and I'm gonna help," he replied, and waggled the spoon. "Want to go round three?"


End file.
